"Internment" chapter 11
“MacLeod! Your friend is here! And he’s brought trouble!” Methos shouted into the cave, then added a violent Egyptian curse under breath. He turned his gaze back to the sky above the island.
The other immortals rushed out of the cave in time to watch two Bell 408 helicopters dancing around an Apache Longbow. The Apache fired again - two more bursts - warning shots under their tail wings. A strike to the tail rotor hubs of the unarmed Bells would smack them out of the sky. Swiftly the Bells retreated from the unequal match, leaving the island to the war worthy Apache.
Eight immortals approached the landing helicopter, armed with two swords and the bows and arrows Methos had crafted. Meeting a 21st century war bird with, at best, 18th century weapons - it was laughable if you thought about it. Methos, with nothing but a stone knife secreted in a tattered pocket - out of sight of Cassandra - chose not to think about it. Instead he considered if now was finally the appropriate time to make that dive off the cliff.
When a new immortal signature brushed his senses it was only MacLeod’s hand firmly restraining him that kept Methos from moving to the edge. Stay was plainly in MacLeod’s eyes and he gave the highlander a scowl of irritation, before returning his attention to the large helicopter.
The door un-clamped and two gun baring men in black suits jumped down, follow by FBI agent Matthew McCormick. Methos recognized the man. He’d been around for at least 17 centuries and was a student of Ceirdwyn, but he was also the teacher of that rapscallion Cory Raines. Was it fair to hold the teacher responsible for the foolishness of the student? His mind spent a thought on Byron. Still he held back refusing to be drawn forward by MacLeod, who rushed over to greet their rescuer.
“MacLeod!” McCormick shook hands with him, then with Kyra, Robert, Gina and Walter. Only Claudia and Cassandra held back with Methos. While the two ancient immortals were naturally suspicious of the situation, Claudia’s fear was more basic.
“Helicopters make me air sick.”
Methos asked her, “Claudia, do you know where Sam and Michelle are?” She nodded. “Go get them. I have to go get my sword.”
“Adam - .”
“Don’t argue child. I’ll be back before you,” he challenged her, then rushed off with no further explanation.
“Doc!” McCormick called after him.
“He’s going after his sword, ” Claudia explained.
“We could leave him here,” muttered Cassandra.
“Doc,” McCormick shouted at the rapidly disappearing man, “there are plenty swords in the world!” Methos kept walking without looking back.
Robert noted, “But he’s carried that one for eight centuries.”
“Stubborn old fool,” McCormick grumbled.
MacLeod asked, “You know Adam as Doc too?”
McCormick nodded, “I’ve run into him now and then over the centuries. Last time was in Louisiana. He liked to make trouble by giving medical treatment to slaves.”
Claudia glared at him.
“Sorry, miss, times were different then.”
“So they tell me.” Her expression told her opinion of that excuse. “I have to go find Michelle and Sam.” Remarkably, Claudia marched off to find the stray couple as Methos had demanded she do.
McCormick shouted after her, “Hurry up! We need to take off before the wind comes up this afternoon,” then directed quietly to MacLeod, “or before those Bells find some big brothers to help them.”
“Two of our number haven’t graced us with their presence for about 36 hours,” Robert explained.
“I take it this pair are rather fond of each others company.”
“Or they just don’t care for ours,” Kyra suggested.
“Ah, Kyra, darling. Longtime...”
“So the gallant knight has arrived.”
“At your service - hey where’s everybody going?”
Walter had dashed off after Claudia, and when Cassandra followed after Methos MacLeod determined that he should supervise and ran after her.
Exasperated, McCormick hollered, “Hey, this is not the time to be taking off - dear lords and ladies! Might as well be herding cats.”
Robert eyed the Apache with eager interest, “I’ve always wanted to fly one of those.”
“No! I have to return it in one piece.”
“Just how does one go about borrowing an Apache Longbow?”
“Saving a General’s life, twice.”
“Ah, never thought of that. A bit risky behavior for an immortal.”
“Not as risky as living in the same house for three hundred years.”
“You may have a point.”
Despite her effort to catch up with him, Methos was just too fast for her, and within a few minutes he had disappeared from Cassandra’s sight. By then MacLeod had nearly caught up to her. The katana holstered in his belt glinted silver in the dabble light of the woods as his long legs tore up the distance to her.
She gave up the pursuit, and stopped in the path to speak with the highlander. “I want my sword back from Kyra.”
He ignored her defensive attack. “Where are you going?”
“To collect what Death owes me.”
“That might not workout the way you want.”
“You’re too young to understand.”
“And you think I ought to get your sword from Kyra? I’m not that young.”
“Duncan! You want me to work with Methos - “
“No, I - ”
“to stop these mortals - ”
“don’t expect you to - ”
“who are playing with us.”
“do that. Cassandra! Sorry. You have your say, then I’ll speak.”
“Duncan.” She paused a moment then began again carefully. “Duncan, I accept that what is happening to immortals now is serious and that we have to do something normally impossible - work together.”
MacLeod added quickly, “And if you and Methos can work together then any of us can.”
Shaking her head, “No. We can’t possibly trust each other.”
“Then why do you want to speak with him?”
“I - I’m not sure. He isn’t a subject I’m rational about. But I do realize he saved my life. It irritates me. I want to know why he insists I live. I want answers, but at the same time I don’t want to be around him.”
“This is scary - but I understand.”
She smiled. “You’re young, not stupid.”
An immortal presence touched them where they’d stopped in the woods. It was Methos returned from his small cave with his Ivanhoe and a cedar-bark bag full of stone tools.
“Well, have you two solved the world’s problems yet?”
“Something like that. What’s in the bag?” MacLeod asked.
“My artifacts. They’re not getting them this time.”
“That’s asinine.” Cassandra snorted.
“No more than taking them from me in the first place.”
“It is bizarre.” MacLeod latched on to what seemed a neutral subject, and continued the theme as they retraced the path back to the helicopter. “What do you think they’re trying to learn?”
“His origin. They somehow know he’s the oldest immortal, and are trying to determine his origin from the style of the stone artifacts he produces.”
“They somehow know I’m the oldest!”
“I did not tell them.”
“You told Gina and Claudia.”
“Yes. That I did. Answer my question and I’ll not tell anyone else.”
“Gods! Woman! All right, I’ll tell you - he bought me out of slavery! Is that the answer you wanted to hear?”
Cassandra remained silent.
“I take it this question had something to do with Kronos?”
“He told you?” She was incredulous.
“He’s been known to spin a tale after a gallon or two of beer.”
“See, Cassandra, all you had to do was buy me a beer.”
“Right after I sprout wings and fly.”
MacLeod and Methos exchanged looks of suppressed humor. “I’ll no touch that one.”
“Bright boy.”
Cassandra changed the subject abruptly. “I think it’s those bloody Watchers you invented behind this.”
“Me? Why, by all the gods, would I invent them!”
“Joe insists they’re not involved,” MacLeod interjected. “Of course Joe doesn’t know everything that’s going on in the Watchers.”
“There was something he said to me,” Methos remembered. “I was very tired at the time and it didn’t click with me then, but I’ve had a lot of time to think it over. He said my watcher accused me of slashing her tires the night I was originally kidnaped in London.”
“So she had an excuse for not seeing what happened to you. Yeah, Joe and I talked about that. She was reassigned, and her new immortal is still at large, so far.”
Cassandra asked, “Could she have known your true identity?”
“As far as I know she didn’t, but - .” He shrugged.
“Whatever involvement some Watchers might have, the military arm of this operation comes from somewhere else. I hope McCormick has found a lead.”
“His little helicopter confrontation indicates he’s spit in someone’s cup.”
The three of them beat Claudia and Walter’s return to the helipad with Michelle and Sam in tow by only a couple minutes.
“Finally! Get in here.” McCormick waved everyone to climb on board the Apache, and strapped some of them in personally like untrustworthy children.
When ready he nodded to the flight crew. “Next stop Vancouver, BC.”